Idle hands
by Atheniandream
Summary: Idle hands, are a Colonel's play tool... (Has it ever happened to you?)


Title: IDLE HANDS  
  
Author: Athena.   
  
Email: atheniandream@aol.com  
  
Content Warnings: Angst, the old biscuit, Slight Humour  
  
Pairings: S/J,   
  
Spoilers: None. But sort-established relationship  
  
Season: Eight  
  
Rating: R, I think  
  
Summary: Idle hands, are a Colonel's play tool...  
  
Author's notes: Has it ever happened to you?  
  
Archive: Anywhere. I'm my own publicist.  
  
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING. I know this.  
  
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Has it ever happened to you?  
  
IDLE HANDS  
  
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Idle hands, are a Colonel's play tool...  
  
==============================  
  
"So."  
  
They had originally decided to start slow, and then, gradually work their way up the relationship scale.  
  
"So?"  
  
"Eh."  
  
Dinner, a movie, and then back to his place. Obviously.  
  
That way, they could 'become more accustomed' and then they wouldn't feel  
  
Nervous.  
  
Agitated.  
  
Jitty?  
  
Verging to either too horny or absolutely uninterested.  
  
Like that could happen in a millions years.  
  
"Right."  
  
Dinner was fabulous, easy, and fixable. The movie was 'interesting', in a very non-interesting way.  
  
But. Going back to her place?  
  
This of course this was not how it was supposed to happen.  
  
Or so *he* thought...  
  
"So, why do men insist on pushing their luck purely on annoyance?"   
  
She almost hissed through partly opened lips, his lips gliding of her jawbone as she retaliated  
  
With the gentle used of her fingers, gently being forced to lie down by the pressure of his pelvis weighing on hers.   
  
"I'm not annoying you, *you* just need to be in control. Relax Major, take a load off."   
  
He passed an evil grin at her, still pursuing her annoyances as 'one more thing to conquer'.  
  
She didn't even bother to engage in a fist full of sarcasm, it wouldn't be worth the hassle   
  
and she was starting to feel tired.  
  
Ever so gently,   
  
Easing her, coaxing her out of her little shell, fingers bushing, her upper back arching,   
  
lips aching, but still just as annoyed. Mostly because he *was* pushing his luck.  
  
Sure, she'd had a great time up until now.   
  
They gone to dinner, and joked mostly, about how old and inexperienced they were at   
  
the whole dating game of late, which went onto to spur some interesting conversation   
  
about Jack's teenage years, which encompassed the 70's-what a mental image. One that   
  
she couldn't really dwell on for long, for fear of a well needed brain spasm.  
  
Then they'd laughed some more and chewed over how they weren't feeling and what they   
  
wouldn't be doing right now.  
  
However.  
  
She was Sam.  
  
And He for once, was just Jack.  
  
And that made he a tad nervous.  
  
Carter and 'the Colonel' had their limits, their lines, and their regulations.  
  
But Sam and Jack?  
  
Well, they had a bottle of wine on one side, and a double quilted bed on the other.  
  
And that MADE her nervous.   
  
"Sam," He groaned, rhythmically pressing almost as much weight on her, as on her name,   
  
Long fingers were starting to make there way to very interesting places, and her butterflies started to purr.  
  
"Okay...if you say so." All but smiling, She continued to fight his advances, sensually   
  
and secretly winning the fight back with her hands.  
  
Every tantalising,  
  
Tingling sensation,  
  
Itching  
  
All,  
  
The,  
  
Way,  
  
Down,  
  
Feeding  
  
His  
  
Way   
  
To,  
  
Her,  
  
Until.   
  
Like a wide-eyed deer,   
  
He froze.  
  
"What?" she looked down at him.  
  
"Uh," He winced.  
  
Following his lead, she did the same. "What?"  
  
"Slight problem."  
  
Not knowing whether it was her or him, and frowning in a very 'Carter'istic way.  
  
"Uh...what is it?"   
  
"Sam, I hate to break it to ya, and in a very unromantic and weird kind of way, but uh..."  
  
"What? Tell me?" She warned.  
  
"You might want to..." Holding a hand above his hand, he wriggled one finger.  
  
He didn't have to say it.   
  
He didn't need to utter one, single word, but after all, what guy did?   
  
It was always an unspoken communication that didn't need to be tended to, but instead just remained between the sexes.  
  
A well-oiled laugh escaped the two of them.  
  
"Oh Shit."   
  
Better luck next time?  
  
------------------------  
  
Like?  
  
No Like?  
  
Please, feed, us girls can always relate. ;)  
  
Athena 


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